


Eldritch Bunker Crack: The Great Glitter War

by Dragonwithatale



Series: Eldritch Bunker Crack [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cas just kind of bounces out, Crack, Eldritch Bunker - Freeform, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 13:46:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15244725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragonwithatale/pseuds/Dragonwithatale
Summary: Dean called it cheating.Sam called it the nuclear option.It was always the last resort during a prank war.That didn’t mean that things didn’t occasionally get… glittery.





	Eldritch Bunker Crack: The Great Glitter War

**Author's Note:**

> So there was a throwaway line in the last crack fic about glitter, and my writing group may have made glitter a mandatory prompt, so

Three weeks ago Dean added garlic powder to Sam’s shirts while doing the ironing. They didn’t have any cases, nowhere important to be, and garlic and beer smelled good when ironed.

Sam did not appreciate this the way Dean felt he should. He felt that clothing should smell like laundry and dryer sheets and _clean Dean, I just want my clothes to smell clean, why are you ironing my shirts anyways?_

Dean’s response to this was, of course, to add itching powder to Sam’s underwear drawer. It was a standard opening move in prank wars, easy to counter, easy to escalate or deescalate as the opponent wished.

Sam wished all right. He brought home fresh muffins with laxative sprinkled on top. Dean had drooled, and licked every crumb off of his fingers, and then spent the next day cursing at Sam from the bathroom.

So predictably, the bathroom was his target. Red dye in the shower head, blue dye on the towels (with obligatory itching powder), and firecrackers attached to the underside of the toilet seats.

Nine days into the war, Cas decided to take a vacation to look for “aliens. Of course I’m serious Dean, I have legitimate concerns about the reports coming out of Roswell.”

“We ran into ‘aliens’ five years ago, they’re faeries.”

“Then I’ll go reintroduce myself to the Court.”

“Cas, c’mon, I need you to help me trap the doors with water buckets.”

Cas’ only response to that was to roll his eyes and slam the door behind him.

Twelve days into the war, Sam had run out of places to hide his computer to keep Dean from filling it with porn. Even with new passwords on everything, somehow his brother still managed to break into his stuff and put hours of very steamy, very loud porn everywhere. His ringtone was locked to the sound of a very loud orgasm.

That was the final straw. Because the next day, one of the videos started playing while Sam was skyping with Eileen, and she couldn’t hear it but Sam hadn’t been able to keep himself from reacting, flushing with embarrassment and scrambling to close the window, and when that proved impossible shifting uncomfortably for another twenty minutes, trying to hide the boner that had _nothing_ to do with the very beautiful hunter he hadn’t been brave enough to actually ask out yet.

Murder was too quick. Highly tempting, but far… far too quick.

So Sam packed up and left. There was no way to deescalate at this point without physical violence or spending a few weeks apart, and he really… really wanted to resort to physical violence.

So when Dean woke up cursing, shoving his sheets aside violently, he was alone. When he ran through the hallways trailing bright pink glitter in his wake, Sam was not there.

Dean kept finding glitter everywhere.

Even when he’d cleaned already, scrubbed and vacuumed and cried over the damn stuff, there would be more glitter. The stuff was normally impossible to get rid of, but this… this was something else.

After four days, Sam finally answered his phone. “I really don’t want to talk right now, Dean.”

“Did you feed the Bunker glitter.”

“… What?”

“You heard me.”

Sam sighed. “Yes.”

“I’m going to kill you. Murder. Skinned alive.”

“Please, you deserved it.”

“Sam, it’s been putting glitter in my food while I’m eating.”

“You put porn on my skype call _with Eileen_.”

“… You may have a point.”

“No shit.”

The silence that fell between them was distinctly uncomfortable. “Truce?”

“I’m hanging up now, Dean.”

“All right all right, I apologize. Please call the house off.”

Sam sighed again. “Fine. Fine, the glitter is in the gym lockers.”

"Thank you."

"You're still a dick."

 

Dean had tongs, a welding mask, and leather gauntlets when he faced off with the locker door. The Bunker did not want to open the door. He had to argue with it, wrestle with the handle, and finally huff off to a very specific store to buy a bribe.

Unsurprisingly, the silicon lube was met with cheerfully creaking hinges and three packets of glitter that tumbled out of the locker onto the floor. Dean placed the bottle carefully inside, grabbed the glitter, and did not look back. He scrubbed the runes (his name, mostly) off of the bags and muttered crossly to himself about why couldn’t they have had a normal house.

It still took another two days before everything was finally clean. The glitter was shoved deep into a drawer in the kitchen, not forgotten, just… waiting.


End file.
